The Billionaire's Big Beautiful Bride (BWWM Romance Book 1)

by Fielding, J A

  She hesitated, wanting to go back out and find out the name before she got another blot on her name before ten o’clock in the morning on a Monday in February but Rodham had already looked up.

  “Yes Sophie?” he said.

  Sophie frowned, wondering if he’d ever used her name before – just her luck he would choose today to remember it.

  “There’s…a man in the waiting room wanting to see an accountant,” she said.

  Mr. Rodham contemplated her for a moment eyebrow raised.

  “Send him in,” was all he said at last.

  Sophie breathed again and went to tell the man with the piercing blue eyes that the boss would see him now.

  The office was quickly filling up and Sophie put the strange happenings of the morning behind her in favor of getting to work. Mr. Rodham and the client were in his office a long time and Sophie wondered if he had come for help declaring bankruptcy, or maybe it was a mortgage gone badly. So many people came with money management issues these days. ‘Mr. Blue Eyes could start by buying cheaper shoes’ she thought.

  *****

  “My accountant is stealing from me,” Tony began bluntly, “and I need an independent audit.”

  “Is that so?” Rodham leaned back in his chair contemplating the client. His suit said expensive, but bourgeoisie with it. His shoes were clearly very new. Not Old Money then; and Russian to boot. Mafia, perhaps? But he doubted the Russian Mafia asked for audits.

  “Yes. Can you help me or not?” Tony asked.

  “Of course. I’ll get someone who is skilled in this area to get right on it,” Rodham said, picking up the phone and summoning one of the associates.

  “This is Curtis Jackson; he is one of our brightest associates with a talent for spotting fraud. He is at your disposal,” Rodham said as Jackson came in.

  Tony nodded at Jackson, who smiled at him and ushered him into the conference room so as to get the details of his case.

  *****

  Sophie was typing up some financial reports for clients while simultaneously studying for her CPA exam when a shadow fell over her desk. She looked up to see Jackson grinning down at her.

  “Hey Sophie,” he said.

  “Hi. Can I help you with something?” she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Jackson smiling never boded well for anyone.

  “Au contraire, it’s what I have done for you,” he said confirming all her worst suspicions.

  “And what is that Jackson? Will I need to kill you now or later?” she asked fist curling involuntarily.

  “Definitely later. I got you a date,” he said grin widening.

  “You…what?” she asked, almost choking in her disbelief.

  “That Ruski dude that was here this morning? Remember him? Took quite a shine to you,” Jackson said, propping himself on the edge of her desk.

  Sophie’s hand reached out and she grabbed the calendar staring at it, “Nope. It’s not April 1st; so what the hell are you trying to do to me?” she was whispering, but the menace in her voice was unmistakable.

  “C’mon Sophie, you have no life. You come to work; you go home to your grand pops. You’re a beautiful woman. The man likes you. Give him a chance,” Jackson wheedled.

  “Are you pimping me out to your clients Jackson?” Sophie asked him pseudo-politely.

  “No!” Jackson said and sighed, “Look, just hear him out okay? If you don’t like him, say no.”

  There was a small silence.

  “Besides, he’s way out of my league,” Sophie said, and then could have bitten her tongue. Giving Jackson a reason he could argue away was as good as acquiescing to his demands.

  *****

  “G-Money! You home?” Sophie called as she got in that night. Her feet were killing her! She flung her heels off her feet with more violence than strictly necessary. Being a size sixteen meant that there was quite a bit of weight pressing on her toes. She would have preferred wearing flats, but the office had an unspoken policy on how its female employees should present themselves. Heels were part of the uniform. She walked to her room still calling out for her grandfather, but there was no reply. Then she remembered that Monday nights was poker night for him and his workmates at the jeweler’s. He wouldn’t be home until later. Changing into a comfortable pair of black sweats she went to contemplate the contents of the fridge. There was some leftover gumbo which she warmed up and ate at the table while Jay Z blasted from her beats headphones, telling her about his 99 problems. This was followed by her guilty pleasure, Justin Bieber, singing about Beauty and a Beat.

  Did Mr. Blue Eyes really want to date her? Did she want to date him? She’d never been with a white guy before. They usually weren’t into the bigger girls like her; not that she minded. Her voluptuous figure was quite popular enough, thank you; she had no complaints. But Jackson was right. What with money so tight and everything that had happened, she had to admit she was living the life of a recluse. Hell, even her grandfather had more of a social life than her! Maybe if he asked her, she might say yes…just to see what dating was like these days.

  Sophie snorted, “Someone would think you’re like some middle aged hag instead of a twenty five year old babe the way you talk,” she said to herself. She leaned forward, glancing at her blemish free heart shaped features in the mirror. Her short curly hair framed her face in a way that flattered her prominent cheek bones and round brown eyes. Her rosebud shaped mouth smiled a little smugly. She lifted her index finger and touched her full lips with it and then touched the mirror.

  “Sssmmokin,” she whispered.

  Then she went off to bed.

  *****

  “Good morning,” a deep voice said to her as a shadow fell on her desk. She knew it was him before she looked up. She wouldn’t be forgetting that voice in a hurry. Her head lifted slowly, as she felt her face glow.

  “Down girl,” she whispered to her rapidly increasing pulse, “no need to get excited or nothin’”

  She pinned a smile to her face and looked up, “Hi,” she said breathlessly.

  “I’m Tony Romanov,” he said.

  “Hi Tony,” she replied, feeling dizzy. Her smile felt extremely artificial on her face, but she couldn’t seem to shift it.

  “Um, would you like to have coffee with me?” he suggested, piercing her with those ice blue eyes and leaving her helplessly pinned to her seat. Or at least that’s how it felt.

  “Sure,” she managed to whisper.

  “Great. Shall I pick you up after work?” he offered, smiling down at her and literally taking her breath away. She nodded her acquiescence. His smile widened and he nodded back at her before Curtis came to whisk him off to his office.

  Sophie stood up and bolted to the ladies room, “What. The hell. Is the matter with you girl?” she scolded herself sternly in the mirror, “Settle down before you make even more of a damned fool of yourself!”

  She breathed in and out with her eyes closed, all the while wondering at this reaction. Yesterday she hadn’t reacted at all this way to his presence. Maybe she was just nervous about the date. She nodded to herself, deciding that this was the reason and then went back to work.

  The day passed without event, Sophie threw herself into her work and studying for her exam, so much so that she was startled when the shadow was back at her desk, promptly at 6pm.

  “Hi Sophie,” Blue Eyes said…Tony. His name was Tony.

  “Hi…Tony,” she replied, smiling woodenly up at him. She wanted to slap herself out of this fugue state he seemed to put her in but he was watching her.

  “Shall we go?” he asked, holding out his hand. Sophie stood up and smiled at him. She was a tall girl, but he towered over her.

  “I’ll just go freshen up. Real quick, I promise,” she said, hurrying away from him.

  Tony watched her go, “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” he murmured to himself.

  “Whoa, down boy,” an amused voice said from behind him. He turned around to find Curtis smi
ling at him.

  “Oh, hello Curtis. I was just…” Tony began, embarrassed at being caught out.

  “Oh, I know what you were just…” Curtis replied grinning, “Keep it in your pants though. Sophie ain’t that kinda girl.”

  “I was not…” Tony began to protest, but then caught himself. He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Not anymore.

  Curtis saw his discomfiture and changed the subject, “I have something for you by the way, if you want to stop by my office tomorrow.”

  Tony stared at him in surprise, “Already?”

  “Yeah. What can I say? I’m the best,” Curtis replied with a pseudo-self-deprecating shrug and a smirk.

  Tony nodded and agreed to come and then turned his attention back to Sophie who was just swaying her way over from the ladies’ room. She had slicked down her hair with some kind of gel, leaving all the bones of her face exposed and her eyes looking three times as big. Her lips were painted with a brown lipstick and the overall effect was just…electric. Tony wondered if she would let him kiss her after their date. He’d just met her yesterday, but he felt like he’d been waiting for her for millennia. His hands itched to place themselves on those luscious hips; the mere thought caused his penis to twitch.

  “Down boy,” he whispered to himself, “no need to get excited. All in good time.” He smiled as she came up to him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her looking her straight in the eye.

  He was trying to confuse her with those eyes she thought with resignation. How was she supposed to walk when her knees were so weak?

  “Shall we?” he offered, holding out his hand. She grasped it, grateful for something to hold on to.

  He took her to a restaurant tucked into a corner of Boston she’d never been known as the April Shower. It looked like a mom and pop joint and everyone seemed to know everyone. A fair amount of Russian was spoken. As the maitr’d looked up and saw them, a thousand watt smile lit up his face. It flickered slightly when he got a good look at Sophie but then was back as if it had never left.

  “Anton! Welcome. Your table is ready,” he announced coming up to escort them personally to a table at the back of the restaurant.

  Tony pulled out a chair for her, which earned him at least ten brownie points and then sat on the seat next to her, rather than opposite. Sophie wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.

  “So, your name is Anton?” she asked to break the ice.

  “Yes, but all my friends call me Tony,” he explained.

  “Am I your friend?” Sophie asked and then wanted to bite out her tongue. ‘Behave Devereaux’, she told herself.

  “I hope so,” he grinned, giving her that blue eyed stare again.

  She opened her mouth to ask him to stop staring but a waiter came to place a glass in front of her.

  “Black Russian,” Tony said, lifting his glass to her, “privetstvie”

  “What does that mean?” Sophie asked curiously.

  “It means ‘cheers’,” Tony told her with a slight smile, the intent look in his eye not lessening at all.

  “Oh. In that case, privetstvie to you too,” she toasted, clicking her glass to his.

  They drank in silence.

  “Mmm. That’s nice,” Sophie admitted as the drink warmed her from the inside. It was a rather cold day.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Tony said, “Would you like something to eat. My chef will make you anything.”

  “Your chef?” Sophie asked in surprise.

  “Yes.” Tony replied without elaboration.

  “This is your restaurant?”

  “Yes,” Tony stated.

  “Well…you’re talkative. Okay then, what do you recommend?” she asked, settling back in her seat and easing off her shoes surreptitiously. She really did not like heels.

  “I happen to know that he makes a mean pork chop,” Tony said leaning forward confidently

  “Boy, I’m from Louisiana so bring it,” Sophie winked leaning forward too, and taking another sip of her drink. She was beginning to feel very relaxed. To her surprise Tony stood up and took off his coat, placing it over his chair.

  “Pork chops it is,” he smiled, stretching out his hand and taking hers to lift her from her chair.

  “This way Madame,” he gestured placing her hand gently in the crook of his arm.

  Sophie looked down at her discarded shoes, and then at the floor. As far as she could tell, it was clean. She shrugged and followed Anton as he led her to the back of the restaurant, toward the kitchens. The staff in there greeted him with familiarity and someone brought her a pair of house slippers to wear. Tony drew out a stool and placed her upon it and then put on an apron and began rolling up his sleeves.

  “You’re the chef?” Sophie asked a bit louder than she intended. She suspected that she just might be drunk.

  “Yes. Now sit back, drink your vodka and watch me work. I intend to impress you with my mad skills in the kitchen,” he ordered.

  Sophie stared at him open-mouthed and then burst out laughing. This date was definitely turning out to be a winner, she thought. Mr. Blue Eyes smiled into her eyes, and she smiled back. ‘Do not jinx this Devereaux or I will kill you,' she thought to herself as she took another sip of her drink.

  Chapter 2

  Sophie sighed as she lay back in the bubble bath. She lifted a long elegant foot out of the water and wiggled it back and forth. She contemplated it thoughtfully, wondering if it was time to switch her polish from gold to blue…ice blue…like his eyes. ‘Snap. Out. Of. It. Devereaux’

  He had taken her home after cooking her a delicious pork chop and baked potato dinner. He’d made her eat her broccoli too, which was amusing, yet sweet. She liked a man who cared about her health and not just the size of her butt. They had talked like old friends as they ate, perched on stools in the kitchen while his staff worked around them. When he’d picked up one of her feet and put it in his lap, she’d known that the comfort level was getting too rich for her blood. It was time to go home before things got too heated. She’d seen the disappointment in his eyes, but she couldn’t worry about that; there was only so much excitement a girl could take. A six foot tall, blonde haired Russian guy with ice blue eyes and razor sharp cheekbones, a tendency toward solemnity and the most intense stare she’d ever seen on human being…was just about enough for any girl. Her thoughts went back to their conversation and she smiled to herself.

  “How come you were looking for an accountant today?” she had asked him curiously after her third Black Russian had loosened all her inhibitions.

  “My accountant is stealing from me. I think,” he’d confessed blinking at her as he downed his drink.

  “Oh. I thought that maybe you had money problems, turns out you do have money problems, but not the money problems I thought you had,” Sophie said all the time thinking, ‘shutupshutupshutupyou’retalkingtoomuch!’

  Tony had cracked a smile, “Yeah well…” he said, and shrugged, “My father…would not have hired an auditor to solve the problem. A bat to the shins would have been more his style. Maybe break a few bones.”

  “Oh, so Papa Bear was a gangster huh?” she’d asked, just drunk enough to think it funny.

  “No. Just a man who lived in corrupt times. He didn’t trust the law to work like it should,” he explained.

  “And you do?”

  Tony shrugged again and smiled, “I hired an auditor didn’t I?”

  “How did you hear of us by the way? We’re not exactly in the yellow pages.”

  Tony had actually laughed at this. His laugh was a low rumble of sound and it did all kinds of things to Sophie’s insides.

  “What’s so funny?”

  His shoulders went up again but all he said was, “More vodka?”

  “You trying to get me drunk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “So you’ll kiss me at the end of this night.”

  “Just kiss you?” Sophie had
said before she could stop the words. She almost bit her tongue after, but it was too late.

  “Just kiss. The rest will come later.”

  “Oooh, you’re the confident one aintcha?”

  “I know what I want.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?”

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I like a man who knows what he wants,” she’d murmured, not expecting him to hear. That was when he’d picked up her foot and put it in his lap and she had known it was time to go home.

  She lifted that very foot again and contemplated it.

  “I know what I want,” she repeated in as deep an approximation of his voice that she could manage. She wished she had a girlfriend to call at this time so they could obsess over every word, but she’d lost touch with her childhood friends after the move. She reached for her phone and thumbed through her contacts, looking for the closest approximation. Her thumb hesitated over Curtis’ name…he was the one who set them up after all. But the potential for messiness there was too much so she shut off her phone and lay back down in the bath.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Sophie, honey. You have been in there a long time. Everything alright?”

  “Sure G! I’m great. You?” she called to her grandfather.

  He grunted in fake annoyance, “Just get outta there okay before you turn into a frog.”

  “You’re no fun Gramps,” she groaned, but stood up and stepped out of the bath. The water was getting cold anyway.

  She put on her robe and opened the door, expecting him to be waiting on the other side, but he was all the way down the hall in the kitchen.

  “I got cake, I got coffee,” he called, holding out a cup for her. Her feet were headed toward him before she had made up her mind that she could eat.

  “So. You had a date,” her grandfather stated without preamble.

  “So. Who told you?” Sophie asked in turn.

  “Mrs Graham saw him drop you off downstairs. Why didn’t he come up?”

  “I didn’t want him to.”

  “Why not?”